


With Every Grain of Sand

by End



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (sometimes at least), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dubious Science, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Galaxy Garrison, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Mythology References, Non-Linear Narrative, Platonic Relationships, Time Skips, Time Travel Fix-It, Unnecessary world building for a planet that is only relevant in the prologue, outsider perspective of time travelers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-05 09:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12791463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/End/pseuds/End
Summary: March 15, 20XX (2 years before the discovery of the Blue Lion)Galaxy Garrison, Arizona5:27 UTCThe ceiling is familiar, somehow, like an old memory. White, stucco- like the ones at home, or at the Garrison. He wonders, briefly, which poor prisoner managed to get it done without getting killed.Then he registers bed sheets and all too familiar posters.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yall i rewrote that prologue i wrote and deleted like,,, a week ago it's 300% better now  
> anyways season 4 was... okay... i guess  
> Matt was the best part tbh I love him  
> The rest was meh
> 
> there's no time travel in the prologue btw but there will be later i promise

**_January 14, 20XX_ ** _ (4 years after the discovery of the Blue Lion) _

**_Ciardha, Erebos Solar System, 37.65 trillion light years from Earth_ **

 

**09:67 Altean Standard Time**

 

Ciardha is, without a doubt, one of the strangest planets any of them have ever seen. The shadows are thick-writhing with secrets and smoke so dark it nearly drowns out the brilliant golden-yellow of the sky. 

 

The mission is diplomatic in nature- the Galra dare not touch this part of the Samena Galaxy, especially not here. Ciadhans are far too uncontrollable for Galran takeover to be successful, and the quintessence that fuels the life isn't nearly powerful enough to use as an extraction point. Beyond that, the Ciardhan people have a particular ability that cannot be forced by outsiders, one that, during the one and only attempt at takeover, destroyed nearly 7 fleets before a tactical retreat was called and the Galrans gave up on the whole system out of fear. 

 

Regardless, the paladins mission on this planet is purely diplomatic. The Ciardhans hailed them from across the system to hold a meeting with the Princess in hopes of establishing themselves as a part of the coalition. They themselves are sympathetic creatures by nature, unwilling to hurt or deprive innocents. They offered not an active hand in the war against the Galra, but a passive one, complete with advanced healers and the like. Few of them are warriors. 

 

Voltron, of course, accepts. Allura is adamant that the coalition grows, even if the people are unable to fight- what they  _ can _ provide is far more important. So Voltron doesn't expect Ciardha to fight. 

 

And yet, when the Galra decide after nearly 300 years of silence to return to the Erebos System to try again, Voltron is prepared to fight alone. They stand at the front of the line, as they always do, and tear into enemy ships with the same easy, but it quickly becomes evident that they are overpowered. The fleets keep coming, and the energy drain on the paladins is rapidly weakening them. They push forward. 

 

Shadows come to life in the dark spots of the enemy fleets. For a moment, the paladins are terrified that it is another of the witch’s horrid tricks, but then the shadows turn on the ship and begin to tear it apart from throughout- a strangely elegant form of destruction. Voltron separates but dares not interfere under the Princess’ orders. The shadowy helpers are Ciardhan, and rushing in may end in more friendly casualty than enemy. 

 

In the end, the Galra retreats once more, and everything is settled. 

 

**17:32 AST**

 

Pidge feels the need to repeat it as they prepare for the celebratory festival- Ciardha is definitely one of the weirdest planets she’s ever been on. The people are unassuming, with soft eyes and rounded faces. Their clothes are colorful, thick scarves and shawls over long, decorative skirts and outfits of swishy fabric. Their skin is dark, nearly as black as the night sky, but oddly transparent, like the shadows they pull abilities from. The oddest thing, she thinks, is the fact that they don’t have shadows at all. She supposes that living through shadows comes at the price of their own, but she doesn’t know if it’s true. 

 

With a sigh, she turns back to the vanity of her bedroom. Her gloves are lying on the carved metal table alongside a set of ribbons for her hair. The gloves are always obscenely comfortable- Altean fabric is ridiculously soft  _ and _ efficient, like wearing pyjamas you can fight in or something. The dress she’s wearing is made of the same fabric, white and pale green with vines of gold snaking down the sleeves and along the hems. The gloves are short, ending with a flare just past her wrist with a pale green ribbon along the edge. As she tugs them on, she tries not to think of the scars being hidden beneath- scars from too many mistakes, too many slip ups, too many years of fighting. Someone knocks at her door, and she taps at the screen of her phone so the door opens.

 

“How’s it going in here?” Asks Lance, leaning against the metal door frame. 

 

Pidge smiles at him through the mirror. “Just gotta do my hair and I’ll be good,” She replies, waving her hand.

 

Lance grins and steps forward, careful to avoid the scattered machinery and wiring on the floor. “May I?” He asks, placing his hands on the back of the chair behind her shoulders. 

 

She glances at his eyes through the mirror and nods. Both ignore the empty happiness in the air- Earth was everything, but trying to go home while the Galra are still at large? They could- and would- never. “Of course.”

 

Lance runs his fingers through her hair and gently pulls too-long strands away from her face. Under his hand, the long, pale brown of her hair is pulled into an elegant up-do of braids and ribbon. It’s uncomfortably tight, but not enough to be painful, and she knows that it will stay up that way.

 

“Thanks,” She says when he finishes. “It’s nice.”

 

“Anything for you,  _ princesa _ ,” He says, grinning. Pidge shoves him off with a playful glare. 

 

“Shove off,” She snaps teasingly. She pushes out of the chair and lets the fabric fall to her knees. Lance gives her a low whistle.

 

“Beautiful as always,” He says with a wink. “Of course, not as much as me-”

 

Pidge shoves him out the door and closes it behind her, laughing. The banter continues as they walk through the hall to Hunk’s room. 

 

The door opens soundlessly (as they always do) and Hunk calls out to them from within. Giggling, Pidge shoves Lance in first and plops down onto the yellow bedspread. The door closes and Hunk holds a golden ribbon in the air. “Lance, help me with the braids, will you?” 

 

Lance grins and deftly takes the ribbon from his waiting hand. “Of course, buddy!” He smiles, parting the hair and braiding along the crown of his head with practiced ease. He holds the first braid in place and begins a second one on the other side, joining them at the center and pulling the rest of the dark hair into a neat ponytail that Hunk drapes over his shoulder.

 

The two share a smile, and then the trio makes their way into the hall once more. 

 

**17:52 AST**

 

They gather in the main hall of the castle. Allura hands each of them a thin silver chain with a small crystal pendant. “As you know, Ciardha’s atmosphere is not one suitable for humans to breathe. As such, Coran and I have taken the liberty to dig out a few of the decorative air filters we had for guests.”

 

The pendant changes color in their hands, a soft yellow that matches the mid-morning sky of the planet. Allura nods and continues. 

 

“Once they are on, you will have 6 hours to move about as you please. After that, you must return to the castle and replenish the quintessence that powers them. Is that clear?” Everyone nods, and she smiles, pulling her scarves up. “Good. Have fun and enjoy yourselves. I’ve heard Ciardhan festivals are wonderful.”

 

**17:56 AST**

 

The streets are filled with people. Shadowy children in brightly colored clothes dance through the shadows of the buildings. The lights are bright, like one of the large cities on Earth (though Hunk can’t be sure. 4 years is a long time to be away.) and the light pollution turns the skies a pitch black that blends into the shadows of towering trees and buildings. 

 

Music plays, a soft, soothing melody that hands in the air. Shops line the streets, selling sweets and toys and other trinkets. He stops at each one, admiring the curious glasswork of a lamp or the smooth fabric of the drapery of one of the booths. The sweets are nice, but they aren’t much to his tastes- one, called Lisha, was far too grainy on his tongue, and a uncomfortably sticky down his throat. The flavor was phenomenal, however, and he fully intends to do some experimenting with the native ingredients to recreate it, without the texture issues. 

 

Down the way, he can see Pidge bouncing on her heels as she and a younger shop assistant talk excitedly over a collection of small but highly detailed set of robots. A few stalls down, Keith is leaning over a glass case of crystal daggers, exchanging quiet words with the person behind the counter. 

 

Allura and Coran are travelling with the Cabinet and the Queen, visiting the more expensive booths and exchanging pleasantries. 

 

One of the Ciardhans beckons him over, and he cautiously makes his way over, careful not to run into any of the children in the crowded street. The vendor smiles brightly, pushing smokey hair out of brilliant blue eyes. Almost-transparent hands place a well-crafted glass and metal pendant into his palms, winking and sending him off before he can think to pay. 

 

As he walks through the crowd, he fiddles with the smooth object, finding the cool surface and textured areas to be soothing. It rolls smoothly through his fingers, a comforting rhythm as he searches for familiar faces. 

 

Lance steps out of a brightly lit alleyway, waving at one of the citizens cheerfully. He catches sight of him and grins.

 

“Hunk!” He shouts, pushing through the crowd to meet him. He looks happy, Hunk notes- happier than he’s been in a while. His fingers fiddle with the hourglass around his neck.

 

**18:11 AST**

 

Shiro pushes his hair out of his eyes and sighs. He’s mildly uncomfortable under all the layers of fabric he’s wearing- not that he doesn’t like Altean fabric, but four layers is a little much, for him. The fact that his hair has grown longer isn’t helping- he never really learned to style it, and with all the work they’ve been doing as of late, there hasn’t been time to cut it either. 

 

He pushes through the crowds to an emptier area of the festival, slightly overwhelmed by the activities. There’s something in the air that has him on edge, in that odd something-will-happen-and-i’m-not-sure-i’ll-like-it way. He’d watched the others get their gifts from the natives- though not without caution. He’d seen Pidge receive her ornate little robot and run through the various checks they’d implemented almost immediately after the Rover Incident like it was second nature. Keith tucks his new knife into a sterilizing pouch he’s taken to keeping at his waist, usually used for foreign materials with unknown capabilities. Hunk moves through the streets with the new pendant, already running his fingers over the smooth roundness, checking absent-mindedly for hidden mechanisms.  All cautious, careful, without even registering it. He sees it, and is glad for it, but god if it isn’t horrifying. They’re young- too young. The war has taken too much from their innocence already.

 

He blinks. Someone is missing. Lance?

 

He glances around the nearby booths. No, not there. Back in the street, he can see Hunk pushing through the crowd, searching as well.

 

Shiro hears bells. Not the loud chiming ones most planets have, or the little jingle bells that he remembers vaguely from Christmas celebrations on Earth. No, these bells have a soft noise that reminds him of old mythology and magic. Without really thinking about it, he turns toward the source. 

 

The vendor smiles at him, pushing the cloth entrance of the booth to the side. He hesitates, then sets his shoulders and approaches cautiously. The vendor tugs at his sleeves, pulling off the scarf around his neck and draping it over one of the empty glass cases around the edge of the tent. He blinks, feeling less crowded but no less confused. 

 

Before he can question it, however, the vendor speaks.”Welcome, Black Paladin,” She says, the fabrics of her skirts shifting as she lowers herself into a curtsey. “I am  Eir, the Royal Seer. Shall we proceed?”

 

Shiro blinks again. “Proceed?”

 

She smiles knowingly and pulls the scarf off the case with a flourish. A collection of shimmering dilver trinkets sits on top of the previously empty alien-velvet. “Take your pick,” She says, opening the the lid. 

 

The bells continue to ring in his ears. “I couldn’t-”

 

“I insist,” She says, and something in her voice is hard and forceful. “It is fate that brings you here, and fate that gives you this choice. You  _ must _ .”

 

He nods, somewhat intimidated. She smiles again. 

 

Leaning over the case, he looks over each of the trinkets. There are 5 little objects laid out across the dark velvet, all different in size, shape, and function. One of them is a thin silver band with small blue crystals inlaid in the metal. Another is a long, flat chain that comes together in a ‘v’ shape, a single, intricate glass bead hanging from the junction. There’s a lapel pin about the size of his thumbnail beside it, where a lithe cat sits curled up as a glassy black statue within a delicate blooming rose of silver. Another necklace, this one a thin chain with ornate black and white crystal pendant. A medal with a navy blue ribbon and a small lion’s head engraved into it. 

 

His eye moves back to the pin. It’s unusual, to say the least, but somehow it seems to call to him. Eir lifts it off the fabric and smiles. “This one, then?”

 

Shiro nods hesitantly. “Yes.”

 

She smiles, and the rest of the trinkets disappear into dust with a swift rush of wind. Eir’s already bright green eyes take on an eerie glow. 

 

“You have chosen well,” She says, but her voice sounds distant, almost- like it isn’t her speaking but instead someone else, someone beyond the two of them, otherworldly. It reminds him, vaguely, of his Lion.

 

She takes his left hand, wrapping it with the length of his discarded scarf (He’s not sure where it came from, because he’s 90% sure it disappeared when she pulled it off the case). The clasp of the pin is undone, and then the sharp tip is cutting open the meaty part of his palm. He pulls back roughly with a hiss of pain, but her grip is strong on his wrist. The thin petals of the rose catch the drop of blood as it falls, and then the wound closes up within seconds.The pin flashes and returns to normal.

 

The glow of her eyes fades, and she releases her grip on his wrist. The pin is dropped into his palm, still warm from whatever just happened. She pushes him out of the booth, rewrapping his scarf around his neck. “I wish you luck in your future endeavors, Black Paladin,” She says, and in the blink of an eye, she and the booth are gone.

 

**18:02 AST**

 

Ciardhan children are absolutely adorable, Lance thinks as a group of them weave their way through his various shadows cast by all the lights. They have the strangest laugh-it reminds him of a notification ping, almost- and their smiles are brighter than the city lights around them. 

 

They drag him through the town, pulling him to various booths and greeting people. Eventually, they lead him to a small booth towards the back of the festival, in a significantly less crowded area. The shop vendor smiles at him and the children. 

 

“Hello,” She says, leaning over one of the cases to greet the smallest- a little girl named Prima. Prima waves silently from her place behind his knee. “How have you been enjoying the festival?”

 

Lance smiles brightly. “Oh, it’s great!” He says, patting Prima’s head softly. “The kids have been showing me around. It’s really beautiful here- kinda reminds me of home.”

 

Her eyes- a bright, fluorescent green- flash with sympathy. “I see. Well,” She pulls herself up, opening the curtain and pushing aside the beaded veil. “I can’t help you with the homesickness, but I do have a collection of things I think You might like. Would you like to see?”

 

Lance shrugs. “Sure!” He turns towards the children with a smile. “I’ll be back i a bit, oaky? Don’t get into trouble.”

 

The children smile and Prima practically shoves him inside.Before he can disappear behind the curtain, she pulls him down to her level to whisper in his ear. “That’s Eir, the Royal Seer,” She says softly. “Good luck.” Prima lets him up and skips away to join the other children.

 

“She is a good child, is she not?” Eir says amusedly from her spot by another of the cases. “Very bright for her age.”

 

Lance smiles and lets the curtain fall behind him. “Yeah. She’ll do great things in the future, I think.”

 

Eir blinks at him. “...You have good sense, Blue Paladin,” She says after a moment. 

 

He huffs a laugh. “Not at all,” He says humbly. “She’s just got a lot of potential, is all.”

 

“Take pride in yourself, Paladin,” Eir replies sternly, “For not all have as good a sense as you.”

 

He tugs at his sleeves with a helpless laugh. “Yeah?”

 

Eir gives a soft sigh. “May I see your cape?”

 

Lance tilts his head at the strange request but complies, pulling it off his shoulders in an easy movement. She takes it gently, pulling it across the air in front of the case beside her. When the case comes into view once more, the black velvet sparkles with little golden treasures. 

 

He blinks. “Wow, okay,” He breathes, taking a step forward. 

 

Eir huffs amusedly. “You like them, then?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but he nods anyway. “Then choose.”

 

Her tone leaves no room for argument. He leans forward to look more closely at what is there.

 

There are only three things, all forged from gold. One is a bracelet, woven in thick knots from strands of spun gold. In the center of the center knot there is a small hourglass, filled with a dark blue and silver sand. The second is a ring- A carved band with intricate floral designs. The last item is a necklace with a thin chain and a small pendant. The pendant, barely larger than his fingernail, Is a vibrant blue crystal with a star etched into the smooth round surface. 

 

He hesitates. They all captivate him, remind him of home in some way or another. His eyes flick between the three things, conflicted. Finally, after what feels like an eternity (though it was probably only about 30 seconds) He picks up the bracelet. The barest of smiles creeps up his face before he can stop it- The design is almost like one of the friendship bracelets his niece made him when she was 10. 

 

Before the memories overwhelm him, Eir clears her throat. “You have chosen, then?”

 

Lance blinks. “Huh? Oh, yeah.” He holds turns his hand so she can see, and she nods. Pride flickers in her eyes. 

  
“You  _ do _ have good sense,” She says, pushing his fingers closed. When she pulls away the other objects are gone. “Treat it well, for I have no doubts it will follow you wherever you go.” Her eyes take on a soft glow. “Now go. You have children waiting on you, do you not?”


	2. Witnessing the First Steps into the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 15, 20XX (2 years before the Discovery of the Blue Lion)  
> Galaxy Garrison, Arizona
> 
> 5:57 UTC
> 
> The connection snaps, suddenly, to all but one, leaving nothing but empty space where the bond used to be. He grasps at the severed ends, hearing his lion's mournful cry as her sisters are ripped away from her once more. He's uncertain as to what happened, but he's certain he isn't completely alone- if he had been, all of the bonds would have broken, not just 3. He reaches for the remaining connection and tugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up losers i did another chapter so that's cool.   
> What do you mean i was supposed to continue where I left off?? What's the fun in that??? nooo, I fully intend to make this as stupidly convoluted as possible without getting anyone lost. 
> 
> speaking of- i'm totally making the chapter summaries the first reaction to the jump. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**_September 2, 20XX_ ** _ (2 years before the discovery of the Blue Lion) _

**_Galaxy Garrison, Arizona_ **

 

**22:27 UTC**

 

The hallways are dark and empty by the time Matt leaves his father’s office. He’s buzzing with barely restrained excitement-- the Skype call with the rest of the family back home led to some very interesting discoveries, the first and most important being the Kerberos Mission. His father couldn't give many details, but the very idea of it has him bouncing on his heels. His father is going, of course-- he's the only qualified scientist in the facility and a genius in his own right beyond that, so he's really the only viable option. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance, an opportunity to put his face in history books around the globe. 

 

So yeah, Matt is excited. 

 

There's a bounce in his step as he makes his way back to his dorm, and he hums softly into the silence. For a long moment, everything is at peace. 

 

And then he sees that the door to one of the observation decks is open. Blinking in confusion, he moves forward to investigate. Before he can move more than a few feet, Shiro appears from beyond the corner, looking distinctly exhausted. He sees the door open and steps into the door frame with a softer expression on his face. 

 

Curiosity burning, Matt sneaks as close as he can to eavesdrop. 

 

“-Rough night?” Shiro says to whoever was already on the deck. He sounds mildly amused. 

 

“Yeah,” the person replies tiredly. “I keep trying to get read on them, but…”

 

Shiro’s shoulders drop, and he steps further out into the open. “Me too, “ he sighs. His right hand flexes absently at his side. “I got used to hearing them, and now that they're gone,” he pauses, tilting his head slightly, as if that explained everything. It might, for all Matt knows. “Well.”

 

The person outside gives a laugh, and a soft metallic sound that Matt almost didn't realize had been there disappears. 

 

“Well,” They repeat, and Shiro shifts subtly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Why are  _ you _ out here this late then, Golden Boy?”

 

Matt restrains a snicker, watching as Shiro’s neck and ears go red. Shiro coughs, embarrassed. “Well,” he starts when the flush leaves his ears, “You know how it is-”

 

A tanned hand enter’s Matt’s field of vision, resting firmly on Shiro’s shoulder. “Shiro…” The voice starts, low and irritated. Shiro flounders for a moment, a stark difference from his usual put-togetherness. The person sighs. “You need to take better care of yourself. We aren’t at war right now.”

 

Matt feels his blood run cold.

 

Shiro leans against the doorframe with a resigned sigh. “But eventually, we will be. We both know that’s inevitable.”

 

Whoever is outside continues, softly. “So we take advantage of the peace while we can,” They reply, and the hand pushes him back softly. “For now we can rest easy.”

 

“And what about you?” Shiro snaps back. “I’m not the only one with nightmares.”

 

“I can deal. I’ve never been as bad as you.”

 

“So?” Shiro pushes forward. His shoulders shake slightly, with some rage Matt’s never seen before. 

 

The person on the balcony doesn’t let him finish. “I’m fine, Shiro,” Says the voice, softly. “You went through worse at their hands.”

 

“Lance-” Shiro starts again, frustrated and grief-stricken at the same time. 

 

The person outside pushes gently past him into the hallway. Matt hides as quickly as he can, pressing himself against a wall around the corner. Still, he swears he saw a flash of amusement in the glimpse he caught of the mystery boy- Lance’s eyes.

 

“Get some sleep, Shiro,” the boy says gently, voice fading as he walks away. “There’s no use in stressing over what is yet to come. 

 

Shiro sighs. Matt peeks around the corner to see, and watches as he holds his right hand out to the night sky, fingers flexing as if foreign to him. There’s a flicker of silver in the moonlight, and then Shiro turns back inside and shuts the door behind him. 

 

As he disappears back down the hallway, Matt thinks back on what he heard. _A war?_ _And worse, both of them have fought in it._ Still, it’s the first he’s heard of such a thing. War is not uncommon, of course, but the boy seemed far too young to have ever fought in a war, and Shiro, as far as he knows, has never seen battle beyond Garrison simulators.

 

He checks his watch and starts, moving towards his dorm again. It's too late to be worrying about this now. He’ll investigate in the morning. 

 

**-**

 

**_October 17, 20XX_ ** _ (2 years before the discovery of the Blue Lion) _

**_Galaxy Garrison, Arizona_ **

 

**_00:45 UTC_ **

 

The rooftop is a safe haven. People rarely choose to climb the (frankly ridiculous amount of)  stairs for the single most peaceful area in the whole facility. The journey up takes too much energy for most people, he thinks, especially this late at night. 

 

The lateness, of course, doesn't matter much to Keith. He’s been up on the roof for hours either way, tracing the constellations the way he used to back home when his dad was still around. It's a small comfort. 

 

Still, he’s glad to be there. The Garrison has been a dream of his since he was a kid, even before he met Shiro. The stars called to him even when he was a kid, and the feeling that there's something  _ more _ out there, waiting for him, lingers in his chest even now. 

 

He mentioned it to Shiro, when he was chosen to be Keith’s mentor (which was unexpected, to say the least. He's not sure the Garrison realizes they're practically related, but he's not protesting.) but Shiro only laughed. “I guess you'll have to go out there and find out,” He'd said, an all-too-knowing look in his eyes. 

 

And now Shiro has been chosen to fly to Kerberos. It’s an opportunity like no other, something people would probably give an arm to have, and Shiro has it. Not that it was really a question--Takashi Shirogane is the Garrison’s pride and joy, the Golden Boy early graduate with a sparkling smile to match. Who better to represent the Galaxy Garrison than him? 

 

Still, Keith doesn't want him to leave. Shiro is practically his older brother, and God, if he wants to cling to that, who can blame him?  Family was fleeting with him for a long time, after his father went off to go do whatever the hell he thought was more important than his own son. Shiro was- and still is, really- the closest thing he's ever had to family. If anything happened out there, it would destroy him. 

 

One one of the lower, secluded rooftops below him, the stairway door slams open. Keith startles and looks down, curious. 

 

Shiro is out there, fists clenched at his sides. He hangs up the lantern he brought with him, turning it on in a few harsh, trembling moments and then storming over to the railing at the ledge. He looks torn- he fidgets with his right hand the way he does when he’s thinking too hard (it’s a new habit, Keith thinks, because he only noticed it a few months ago) and stares out at the horizon with a slight glare.

 

A few minutes pass, and then someone else steps out onto the lower roof, hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket and shoulders slumping slightly. It’s a cadet Keith can’t put a name to off the top of his head. He looks surprised to see Shiro there, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he speaks, a soft murmur into the night air.

 

“Will you accept?” 

 

Shiro hesitates. He lifts his right hand and stares at it for a long moment, observing the curve of his wrist and the length of his fingers as if he’s never seen them before. Finally, he lowers his hand to the railing and sighs. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

 

The cadet- Keith vaguely recognizes him as a cargo pilot from the class that takes the simulator after his- leans onto the railing with his elbows and tilts his chin in Shiro’s direction. “ You don’t have to go, you know.”

 

The look of outrage on Shiro’s face as he whips around to face him shocks Keith to the core. “And leave them alone to die?” His right hand still clutches to the railing, so tightly the the knuckles have gone white. The wind howls angrily as if in response. “I-”

 

The cadet’s face twists into some emotion Keith can't place. “Then stop them, too,” He snaps, pulling himself from the railing and moving closer to Shiro is swift, determined steps. “Stop the whole damn mission if you have to.”

 

“You know I can’t,” Shiro says. He’s trembling. “It means too much.” He glances back at the horizon for a moment, looking conflicted. “To the world, to the Holt's…  This is a turning point in history. If I stop it, we might not even get the chance to change everything else.”

 

The cadet stops at Shiro’s side, resting his hand on Shiro’s on the railing. He sighs sadly. “...If you go, remember you don't have to do everything on your own. If you need anything-” he pauses, passion burning his sentences before he can finish, brows furrowed in a deep crease, “Promise me--!”

 

“I know,” Shiro cuts him off, smiling gently in that same knowing way he say all those weeks ago in his office. There is a short pause, and when he speaks again, it’s in a whisper so low Keith has to strain to hear. “I promise.”

 

The cadet- Keith really should learn this kid’s name, if he's having heartfelt conversations with his older brother on empty rooftops in the middle of the night- sighs and shakes his head. Still, he doesn't say anything. 

 

Shiro loosens his grip on the railing and laces his fingers with the boy's, pressing their sides together in the process. The boy leans his head on his shoulder and looks out at the stars. The silence is lasting, but not uncomfortable, from what Keith can see. They're obviously comfortable in each others presence, even after arguments (?) like the one he just saw. 

 

Finally, the cadet breaks the silence. 

 

“Stay safe, will you? I’ll keep an eye on things down here for you,” He says, turning to look Shiro in the face. “The Gods know those two will need it.”

 

Shiro huffs a laugh. “Go easy on him this time,” He replies, smiling more now. “He's just a kid.”

 

The cadet sticks his tongue out and bops his nose, fingers lingering on an invisible line across his face before pulling away. “No way! We’re rivals, remember?” 

 

Shiro laughs again, raising his hand to cup the boy’s cheek. Both of them are smiling now, slightly strained and hurt, but bright, hopeful. Shiro’s eyes are soft- softer than Keith has ever seen. 

 

The cadet seems to snap out of whatever trance they’re in first. “Oh, wow,” he starts, pulling away with a teasing grin. “Take a guy to dinner out first, Shirogane.”

 

Shiro flusters, heat rising up his cheeks. Keith fights back a laugh. “I’m not-” he starts, sputtering. “We aren't-”

 

“Yeah,  _ we _ know that,” the cadet drawls, still grinning, “but anyone who comes across us won’t.” At the look on Shiro’s face, he laughs again, flicking the tip of his nose. “Let’s head back. Don’t want anyone to think anything  _ unsavory _ is happening, hm?” He turns on his heel with a wink and goes back inside. 

 

“Lance!” Shiro cries, face still red with embarrassment. He follows after the cadet with a playful huff, arms crossed over his chest.

 

Keith leans back, thinking. This kid- Lance (and he does recognize the name, now that he thinks about it. It's usually just under his own on the simulator scoreboards, after all)- is obviously close to his brother- but Keith has never met him face to face, and that’s  _ unusual _ . There's something about the way they spoke to each other, the fleeting looks and knowing smiles, that suggest years of closeness. But there's something beyond that too.  Something haunted and hurt and terrified, but determined, strong. 

 

Keith sighs. He pushes himself off the cement and stretches his arms over his head, shaking away the thoughts. It's late, and he's tired. He might just be seeing things where there is nothing to find. Still, he fully intends to investigate in the morning. 

 

With one last glance at the sky, he turns and heads back to the dorms. 

 

-

 

**_December 21, 20XX_ ** _ (2 years before the discovery of the Black Lion) _

**_32.7 miles from the Galaxy Garrison, Arizona_ **

 

**13:57 UCT**

 

The Winter Solstice is the shortest day of the year. This is a fact. 

 

Samuel Holt, Matthew Holt, and Takashi Shirogane are the main crew for the history-making Kerberos Mission. This is also a fact. 

 

The main crew of the Kerberos mission is spending the Winter Solstice in the Holt Household. This is an irrefutable fact. 

 

_ Still, _ Katie Holt thinks to herself as she sets the table for lunch,  _ There’s something… odd about Shirogane. _

 

The man in question is talking avidly with her father, going on about the mechanics of near-instantaneous space travel.  Something about light frequencies and energy outputs- Katie can barely follow the conversation, and as intriguing as it seems, it’s starting to grate on her nerves. She isn’t used to being this out of the loop on things like this.

 

Shirogane turns to her, smiling brightly. His eyes are knowing, somehow- like he knows something about her that no one else does. “So, Katie,” He starts, and his left hand taps methodically against his right arm, a steady beat. “Your brother tells me you want to go to the Garrison? What do you want to do?”

 

Katie blinks.  “Yeah,” She nods, mildly confused. “I want to be a scientist like Dad.”

 

Shirogane grins. “Is that so?”

 

She nods again, proudly.  “Of course! It’s the best job there is!”

 

“Would you ever consider being a pilot?” He asks, and that knowing glint is back in his eye. His hand keeps tapping.

 

Her eyes narrow, but she shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

 

He smiles again. “Well, tell me if you ever want to try it. I’d be happy to help.”

 

Matt makes a short, outraged noise. “Are you trying to convert my sister?” He asks, scrunching his nose up in playful disgust. “Don’t do it, Katie! They don’t have cookies, they lied!”

 

Shirogane snorts (decidedly unprofessional, but no one calls him out), choking on a giggle. His eyes are filled with mirth- comfortable and familiar with the situation.  “Come to our side,” He says in a mystical voice, trying to school his face into something serious. “We have sentient robot lions-” He can’t finish, snickering his was through the rest of the incomprehensible sentence.

 

Katie blinks again.  _ Sentient robot… lions?   _ “What the hell?”   
  


“Katie!”

 

Shirogane continues to snicker softly. “It worked on the others,” He says between giggles. “Technically, at least. Yours would be green, I think.”

 

Katie raises a brow, but Shirogane shakes his head and turns back to her father. 

  
  


**17:23 UTC**

 

Katie throws herself down on her bed, exhausted. She’s always hated the social niceties of the “military brat” life-- no matter how badly she wants to go to the Garrison, she hates having to act like a perfect lady when the higher ups come to visit. 

 

Still, Shiro (and how weird is that? He actually gave her permission to address him that casually) was much less stuffy than the other officers, and there was something about him that was-  _ familiar? _ It was odd.

 

There was something about the way he spoke- not just to her but in general, from what she could see- that just  _ screamed _ of knowledge  of things _ beyond _ Earth itself. The others didn’t notice, she thinks; it was a feeling that seemed to come instinctively to her instead of rationally, but the facts are all there and she can’t bring herself to dismiss the notion.

 

When she finally falls asleep, she dreams of the comfort of a green-lit cockpit, a purring voice in her head, and the soft glow of the cattish yellow eyes of a peculiarly green colored lion.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did they go back?????? come back later to find out ((((eventually)))) ((((((((evil laughter))))))))

**Author's Note:**

> if yall wanna yell at me abt my other fics you can @ totallyknowwhatimtalkingabout.tumblr.com  
> actually please do im open to suggestions and shit too bc writers block is a BITCH  
> anyway I love yall thanks for reading


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